Title: One's Own HappinessAuthor: Kat LeeFandom: X-MenCharacter/Pairing: Shadowcat/Magik, Storm/Shadowcat, mentions of Colossus/ShadowcatRating: G/KChallenge/Prompt: Failed attempt at femslash100 584: SlickWarning(s): SpoilersWord Count: 422Date Written: 3 February 2018Summary: Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Marvel Comics and Disney, not the author, and are used without permission.

She watches the children laugh as they skid and play on slick surfaces of ice and snow. It seems like such a short time ago that she was one of them, so young and carefree, so optimistic as she chased Illyana across the snow and skated with her on the ice. She had been an X-Man even then, but she had had a far brighter view of the world. Now she wonders if she’ll ever be that way again.

She’ll never be carefree again. She knows that. She doesn’t expect to have the burdens she’s taken on lifted from her shoulders. Someone had to step up to the Professor’s mantle after his death, and she had chosen to be that person. She’ll always have countless lives depending on her. She’ll always have not just the weight of being team leader upon her conscience but the weight of leading all the X-Men, of teaching all the new mutants, of forging ahead and persisting in being the light that the world needs to see from their people.

She doesn’t expect to be carefree. She doesn’t know where Illyana is, and she is trying to forge a relationship with her brother, someone she’d thought she’d long ago left behind. Everything she does these days, she does with her team and school in mind, but she would like to know that joy again.

She senses the slightest change in the atmosphere around her, a gentle pressure indicating Ororo’s presence at her side. “If I may, Kitten, the greatest mistakes Scott ever made was when he was trying to be someone he was not. You can not lead others to something you do not possess yourself.”

Kitty looks up at her guiding friend in surprise. Ororo laughs, a gentle, musical sound like a Spring breeze drifting over the crisp, freshly fallen snow that she gave the students when they both agreed they had seen too much drama over the last few weeks and needed a break from their responsibilities. “Of course I know, Kitten! I know you as well as I know myself.”

“Do you know where Illyana is?” she asks.

“No,” Ororo admits, “but perhaps you should seek her out?”

Kitty needs no further persuasion. She scrambles from her spot and races away, looking for the Snowflake’s golden light in her ever darkening life. She doesn’t once look back at Ororo nor does she see the darkening sky or the teardrops falling in swirling snowflakes. “Better Illyana, I suppose,” Ororo whispers on the wind, “than Piotr.”